


Come Undone

by capiocapi



Series: Congratulations, it's a Boy [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Iron Dad, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Tony and Peter doing things together, a lot of Peter's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capiocapi/pseuds/capiocapi
Summary: Peter doesn't see a problem with being Mr. Stark's son in secret; he's just happy that he gets to be a part of his life. But while he's still getting used to the new normal, things in Peter's life begin to unravel. He realizes that he doesn't completely understand his powers, the police have decided Spider-Man's a menace, and some of the people at school are determined to make him miserable. And just when he thinks things might be settling down, someone discovers that he's Tony Stark's son and decides to tell the world.Sequel to Congratulations: it's a Boy





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been about 8 weeks since Tony and Peter reconciled at the end of Congratulations: it's a Boy. Thanksgiving and Christmas have come and gone, and now Peter is ready to let his best friend in on the secret.

Today was the day.

Ever since he and Mr. Stark had come to a sort of understanding on the whole biological father thing, Peter had been trying to decide when he should tell Ned.

The fact that he was going to tell Ned was a given - and he’d told Mr. Stark as much. But _when_ , had been a little more difficult to say.

Of course, Mr. Stark had been cool about the whole thing - surprisingly cool, actually. He’d told Peter that it was totally up to him who found out about their relation. Except, of course, for Colonel Rhodes and May, who already knew.

Amazingly, he’d even asked Peter’s permission to tell Happy and Ms. Potts. Peter had said it was fine… really, he knew that Mr. Stark would only tell people he really trusted since they’d decided not to go public with the information. But even still, Mr. Stark had wanted Peter to know who knew their secret and who didn’t, so he’d asked him every time before he told anyone. Peter even knew which of Mr. Stark’s lawyers knew.

Well, he’d been told. Peter hadn’t really committed their names to memory. But the point was that Mr. Stark had asked.

And in turn, Peter had told Mr. Stark who he’d planned on telling. That list began and ended with Ned.

The thing was… Thanksgiving had come up just a few weeks after he’d first talked to Mr. Stark in his kitchen, and Peter had decided to wait to tell Ned. Not that he didn’t trust him… he supposed he just wanted to keep it to himself for a little while. He knew that once Ned found out, he’d want to meet Mr. Stark (again), and ask him questions, and come to the compound… and all of that was fine. But deep down Peter had just wanted a little time to himself with Mr. Stark. Time to get to know him without having to share him.

So for Thanksgiving Mr. Stark had actually come to their little apartment in Queens. May had made her traditional turkey dinner, and Mr. Stark had come over in jeans and a sweater, of all things. Up until that point, Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen the man in anything so casual. Or maybe he had, but he just hadn’t paid as much attention before he’d known that he was actually looking at his father.

In fact, May had mentioned after dinner how similar Peter and Mr. Stark looked, both wearing sweaters, and both with their hair a bit messy - and apparently - identical expressions of post-dinner bliss on their faces. Mr. Stark had chuckled at the comment, and Peter had made a silly face at May, but he hadn’t been able to get the comment out of his head.

Looking like Mr. Stark wasn’t something he ever imagined he’d care much about, but that night he’d stayed up, laying on his bed with his laptop on his stomach, looking at pictures of himself and his father side-by-side, searching for the resemblance. It was there, he found out. Maybe not so much that if someone saw them on the street they’d immediately know they were related - they weren’t identical or anything. But if you were looking for it, it was there in the shape of their lips and eyes, and in the way their hair curled a little by their ears when it got too long.

Peter would never admit it to anyone, but he was secretly pleased to find that he did look at least a little like his father. He’d even found out, thanks to the internet, that when they’d been younger, Mr. Stark and Peter had had nearly identical smiles.

So Thanksgiving had come and gone, and then Christmas had been right around the corner. Ned went to visit his grandparents, and Mr. Stark invited Peter and May out to the compound for Christmas… it didn’t seem right to tell Ned then. They weren’t even going to see each other until Ned got back from his grandparents’ right before school started.

Peter had spent the night of Christmas Eve with May at the compound so they’d been able to get up and open gifts with Mr. Stark on Christmas morning.

The whole thing had been really nice…

Peter had actually ended up spending the entire first week of Christmas break up at the Compound with Mr. Stark while May had gone back to work.

But now it was January, and Peter knew that he couldn’t put off telling Ned any longer. As it was, there was a chance that his friend would be upset that he’d waited so long.

He’d get over it, though. And it’d been worth it to have the extra time to start trying to wrap his head around the situation without adding Ned’s inevitable freak-out to the equation.

And luckily, they still had a couple days of winter break left, so Peter was hoping that if he told Ned today, he’d have a couple days to digest the news and wouldn’t be so eager to talk about it at school like he was when he found out that Peter was Spider-Man.

 

“Wait, wait, wait… so you’re telling me that Tony Stark is _actually_ your father. Like, literally your biological parent.”

“Yeah.”

“How did that even happen? Did - uh… I mean…”

Ned suddenly stopped himself from saying whatever he was about to say, but Peter already had an idea of where his mind was headed.

“He didn’t know about me. My birth mom never told him she was pregnant. So when the Parkers adopted me, they weren’t told that my father was actually alive because nobody knew about him.”

“Wow. So when he found out, he decided he had to get to know you.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s basically it.” Leaving out all the years that Mr. Stark had watched over him from afar, not wanting to interfere in his life. No reason for Ned to know about that. Besides, it was sort of true… it’s just that Mr. Stark had spent years getting to know him through school reports and photos before he’d actually introduced himself.

Ned fell silent, staring down at the carpeted floor of Peter’s room. Suddenly his head shot up. “Hey, didn’t Stark move upstate? Does that mean you’re moving?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m staying here. I go up and see him every other weekend.”

“Oh so, he’s got like… visitation rights.”

“I mean, kinda? It’s not like a legal arrangement or anything. He wouldn’t take me out of school and away from May. We’re just… getting to know each other. It’s cool.”

Ned was nodding to himself. “That’s amazing, dude. Like, what is your life, even? First you get superpowers, then you get a super dad… too bad you’re not old enough to play the lottery.” He paused. “Wait! Stark is rich! It’s like you already _won_ the lottery! Oh my god!”

Peter shrugged. “I guess. I’m just happy that he’s so cool, you know? I don’t care about the money.”

“I bet he got you something amazing for Christmas. What’d you get? A car? A boat? Your own private jet?”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle. “I got a t-shirt, a music CD, and a photo album of family pictures. I don’t need a boat or a plane.”

But because he couldn’t help it, Peter smirked. “Besides, he already got me a car a while back.”

Ned’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? That’s amazing! You can’t even drive yet, though. What’d May say?”

“She’s okay with it. Technically, it’s Mr. Stark’s car… but the weekends I go visit he’s teaching me to drive in it. He said once I get my license I can have it.”

“That’s so cool. This is like, seriously, the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”

“Well… I won’t be able to have the car here. We don’t have enough parking. But I’ll be able to drive it up at the compound when I visit.”

“It’s still amazing. But hey, why do you still call him ‘Mr. Stark’ all the time? Is he like, one of those rich types that won’t let you use his name?”

“No, I just… I don’t know. He keeps telling me to call him ‘Tony’, but it seems weird.”

“You think you’ll ever call him ‘father’ or ‘dad’?”

Peter shook his head. “Definitely not ‘father’; that sounds too formal… and kinda weird.”

Ned adopted his best Darth Vader voice. “Luke… I’m your father…”

“Yeah, exactly. But I don’t know about ‘dad’... we’ll have to see. I’ve never actually called anyone ‘dad’ before, so maybe someday…”

“Wait, never? Not even the dad you were raised with?”

“Nah, I was a little kid when my parents died. I think I was still saying ‘daddy’.”

Ned nodded. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.” Then his eyes widened. “Dude! You know what this means! You’re about to become the most popular kid in school! Flash will never be able to make fun of us again.”

Ned must’ve seen Peter’s expression, because suddenly his face fell. “Don’t tell me it’s a secret.”

“It’s a secret, dude.”

“Another secret? Are you serious? This could make our high school careers, man. That’s not fair.” Then Ned suddenly got serious. “Oh crap. Is he-- does he _want_ you to keep it a secret? Does he not want people to know?”

Peter waved away his friend’s concern. “No, it’s not like that. He left it up to me. But come on, man, he’s Tony-freakin’-Stark! People try to kill him like twice a year. Plus, he’s famous even apart from what he does as Iron Man. If people knew I was his kid, the media would be all over our school. I’d never have any privacy.”

“So you’d be famous too. Is that really a downside?”

“Uh yeah, if I want to keep being Spider-Man, it is! I’ve got enough to worry about trying to keep my identity secret as it is; I don’t need people following me around all the time taking my picture while I’m trying to sneak off and change into my suit.”

“Ah. True.”

Ned continued to pepper him with random questions until May called them to dinner. Overall, Peter thought he’d taken the news pretty well. His friend wasn’t thrilled with it being a secret, but then again, he still wasn’t completely happy about Spider-Man being a secret either. But the important thing was that Peter knew that he could trust Ned; he’d never tell anyone without Peter’s permission.

 

Ned came back over to his apartment the night before their first day back at school so they could put the finishing touches on an elaborate Star Wars AT-AT model that Ned had received for Christmas.

“This is gonna look so cool in my room, dude.”

“Yeah. So are you gonna put it on the - hold on.” His phone was vibrating in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw it was Mr. Stark.

“Hey,” he answered.

“Hey kiddo, just calling to check in. How’s it going?”

“Good. Everything’s good. Ned and I are just working on a Star Wars thing for his room.” At Ned’s questioning look, Peter mouthed, ‘MY DAD’ silently, just to see how it felt.

“Sounds like some good, nerdy fun. Look, I don’t want to keep you, but I wanted to make sure that you were still okay with the school stuff we talked about.”

“Yeah, I’m fine with it. It’s only the principal that would be able to see it anyway.”

“Right. Him, and his admin staff. But legally, they won’t be able to say anything about it to anyone.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay then! One of my lawyers will be at the school tomorrow bright and early to get everything set up. You still coming up this weekend?”

“Definitely. And hey, would it be possible for me to maybe bring Ned sometime?”

“Yeah, anytime you guys want. Just give me a head’s up so I can let my staff know he’s coming, okay?”

“Got it, thanks.”

Once Peter ended the call, he saw that Ned had finished the model and was looking at him expectantly.

“That was… my dad.” Peter half-smiled, kind of enjoying saying the word, even if he wasn’t ready to say it to Mr. Stark’s face.

“Yeah, I got that. Dude, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get used to Tony Stark having your number and just calling you up whenever. It’s mind-blowing. Does he call often?”

“I guess. We talk on the phone or text pretty much every day now.”

“Mind-blowing…,” Ned muttered, shaking his head. “What was that about the principal?”

“Oh! So… even though we aren’t going public with the information, we decided to make it official and legal. Just in case… I don’t know.” Peter swallowed. “If anything ever happened to him, I’d want to have the right to be there. And same if anything happened to me.” He couldn’t bring himself to mention something happening to May. She wasn’t allowed to get hurt - ever.

“So over the holidays he got his lawyers to work out the details. They got my birth certificate updated with his name on it, and now they’re going to submit the info to the school.”

“Wow. Will all our teachers know?”

“No. There’s some kind of privacy law. It’ll basically be in my official record, but only the principal will know about it. They’d only open my record again if something happened and they needed to look up another guardian for me. But May’s the school’s official contact still, so that’ll never happen.”

 

That night, as he stared up at the ceiling waiting to fall asleep, Peter realized that he felt different. He’d be going back to school a new person, in a sense. Even more so than after he and Mr. Stark had first worked things out. He’d already had two holidays with his father and it was feeling more real and more settled every day.

And even though Flash would still call him ‘Penis Parker’ and kids would still laugh, Peter found that the thought didn’t bother him as much anymore. They could say whatever they wanted, they could laugh, they could mock… but Peter would be able to open his phone and text his actual biological father any time he wanted. He could call him after school if he wanted. He could go over and visit him, or invite him over to the apartment. Those were things he’d never been able to do his whole life.

He couldn’t imagine he’d ever get tired of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice that Peter is going back and forth between calling Tony "Mr. Stark", and calling him "dad", even in the privacy of his own mind. That's intentional - he's still getting used to this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter break is over and it's back to school for Peter and Ned, and back to regular patrolling for Spider-Man.

They had decathlon practice their very first day back at school, prompting a whole lot of complaining from Ned. Peter wasn’t sure why Ned was acting so surprised by the whole thing - they’d all gotten an email over winter break with the new practice schedule.

“I mean, it’s the first day back. Why today?”

Peter grabbed one last book from his locker and stuffed it into his backpack. “I thought you liked decathlon.”

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t see why we need to practice _today_.”

Peter turned and eyed his friend suspiciously as they walked towards the practice room. “What’s going on today?”

Ned sighed. “The new season of Star Legends comes out on Netflix today. Well, technically at midnight, so tomorrow.”

“Dude, we’re not gonna practice until midnight!”

“I know, but I’ve got to get home and do a bunch of stuff for my mom and then get all my homework done before midnight so I’ll be free to watch it.”

“You’re gonna try to watch the whole season tonight?”

Ned shrugged as they entered the room just off the library where some of the other students were already waiting. “Maybe.”

Peter chuckled, taking his seat. Ned was going to be a zombie tomorrow.

Before they got started, Mr. Harrington had some announcements.

“Welcome back from winter break. We have a new person joining the team to take Liz’s place. She may be just a sophomore, but I hear she’s pretty smart, so I’m sure she’ll be a great addition to our team.”

Abe raised his hand and spoke without waiting. “Most of us are sophomores!”

“Yes. And most of you are pretty smart, too.”

“Most?” someone in the back said.

Mr. Harrington nodded, oblivious. “Most of the time, yes. Anyway, she’s just transferred in, so please make her feel welcome when she gets here.”

When she walked in, Peter immediately recognized her as the new girl who’d been in several of his classes earlier that day. Apparently she’d been on the waiting list to get into Midtown, and had been able to transfer in for the newest semester.

“Everybody, this is Lindsey. She was on the decathlon team at her old school, so I’m sure she’ll fit right in.” Mr. Harrington ushered the girl to a nearby seat while people around the table muttered their greetings.

Lindsey looked around the table, smiling shyly at everyone. Peter could tell that Flash was sizing her up, trying to determine if she was going to be an ally, or someone else to make fun of.

“All right. Michelle? You’re up.”

Michelle stood and came to the front of the table as Mr. Harrington stepped back.

After a short introduction, she passed out new study guides and had everyone get into groups. “We’ll just go for about an hour, and then we’ll call it a day. Be ready to continue next practice.”

Despite Ned’s earlier dismay over having to practice, he was completely focused once they got started. Peter noticed that Flash and the new girl seemed to be getting along great, which was not only good for the team, but good for Peter as well - hopefully Flash would be less of a pain with someone else to focus on.

But of course, once practice ended, Flash was quick to tell Lindsey that Peter preferred to be called Penis Parker.

So much for Flash forgetting about him.

Peter just rolled his eyes and and shrugged at Flash as if he didn’t care either way. He was done letting the stupid names get to him.

On his way out the door, Michelle nudged his shoulder and looked at him suspiciously. “You seem strangely confident.” The way she said it made it sound more like an accusation than a compliment.

Still, he could take it however he wanted. “Thanks,” he replied, following Ned out the door.

Once outside of the school, he and Ned went their separate ways. Ned had to prepare for his Netflix binge, and Peter decided he’d be getting into his suit as soon as he got home.

 

Even though it was only their first day back, they’d been assigned three different major projects for the coming weeks. Luckily, Peter wasn’t that interested in Star Legends, so instead of starting right away like Ned, he figured he had time to catch up on his patrolling. Over their two-week winter break, he’d only gone on patrol twice. He’d been up at the compound the first week, and the second week May had wanted him to stay around the house and do things for her.

Probably, he thought, just so he wouldn’t spend the entire time out as Spider-Man.

But break was over now, and it was time to get back to a more normal schedule. This semester didn’t seem like it’d be too challenging, so he figured he’d be able to go out and patrol every-other-night at least.

“Peter, incoming call from Mr. Stark.”

“Thanks, Karen!” Peter paused on a rooftop as the call connected.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You in a safe place to pause for a minute? I have some news you might be interested in.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m on Mr. Delmar’s roof.”

“The deli guy with the cat?”

“That’s the one. Best subs in Queens.”

“Sadly, this news is not food-related. Just wanted to let you know what we’ve had a bit of a break-through with the Accords.”

“That’s amazing! Is everyone gonna be pardoned?” Peter knew that Mr. Stark had been working with Colonel Rhodes and the new Secretary of State to try to figure out a way that the other Avengers could return to the US without prosecution. Labeling them as war criminals was ridiculous after all they’d done to help people.

“Yes and no. Secretary Espinoza finally has the President and Congress convinced that the Avengers are more good to us here than running around overseas evading the law.”

“That’s great!”

“But there are a lot of moving parts, kid. The U.N. still has to meet about it - we’re not going to go against all the other countries in the coalition.”

“So if the other countries don’t agree, the Avengers are still war criminals?”

“For now, yeah. But the President’s had a couple meetings with the new King of Wakanda - you may remember him; great fighter, really likes cats - and they’re putting their heads together to find a way to convince the other countries to ease up a bit. We may see some edits to the Accords that would be more hero-friendly.”

“That’s so cool!”

“I think so too. It’s a slow process, though. The Accords took a long time to put together, adjusting them probably won’t be much faster.”

“Still, it’s progress. That’s good.”

“Yep. All right kid, have fun out there. Keep yourself out of trouble.”

“I will!” The call disconnected, and Peter rose from his crouched position on Mr. Delmar’s roof.

“All right, Karen, any crime reports? What’s happening?”

“There have been three reported purse snatchings in the same general area in the last week, but no suspects are in custody.”

“Huh. A serial purse-snatcher. Let’s see if they’re working today.”

Peter made his way to the area the reports indicated, and waited out of sight on a nearby roof. From his vantage point he could see down two alleyways and into the streets beyond.

He knew it was unlikely that he’d happen to be there at just the right time to interrupt a purse thief, but it couldn’t hurt to get a feel for the area. Once he was sure no one could see him, he pulled out his snack and lifted the bottom of his mask to eat. As far as rooftops went, it wasn’t the best - there was a dumpster below that definitely had something rotten in it - but he was hungry and didn’t want to leave yet.

A doorway opening down below had him pulling his mask back down, and laying aside his snack.

“Boss wants something sporty tonight. Something nice and flashy for a new client.”

“Where the hell am I gonna get something flashy on such short notice?”

“That’s your problem, man.”

“Dealerships have cameras - I can’t boost something off a lot.”

“Not a lot, dumbass. Just find some rich snob parked somewhere. Look for a swanky nightclub or something.”

Peter peaked over the side of the building to see a the door shutting as a guy walked towards the mouth of the alley grumbling under his breath.

“Well, Karen. Looks like car thieves and purse snatchers hang out in the same places. Who knew?”

“Are we going to stop him, or would you like me to contact the authorities?”

Peter rose, slipping on his backpack and moving across the roof. “Neither. It sounds like this is an ongoing thing. I want to see if he’ll lead us back to wherever they’re operating out of. _Then_  we’ll call the police.”

Peter managed to get close enough to get a tracker onto the guy, so as long as he didn’t take off his coat he’d be trackable. Given that it was January, and freezing outside, it didn’t seem likely that they’d lose him.

“Karen, remind me to thank Mr. Stark for the heater in this suit, by the way. It’s amazing.”

“Sure, Peter. I should also remind you that your aunt expects you home for dinner.”

“Right.” Even though it got dark pretty early in January, Peter guessed that the bad guy would probably wait until a little later to make his move. Plenty of time to go home and eat.

Over dinner, Peter filled May in on his first day back at school, conveniently forgetting to mention his upcoming projects, and told her his plans to go back out in the suit and find the car thieves.

“Okay, but you need to report it as soon as you know where they are. Don’t even go inside. Just contact the police with the address, okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I won’t be anywhere near them.”

 

“I’ve gotta get closer, Karen. I need to be sure that this is the place.”

“This is where he brought the car.”

“I know, but I need to make sure this isn’t like a meeting point or something. How do we know there are stolen cars in there?”

“My sensors are picking up multiple vehicles inside, but I can’t detect whether or not they are stolen.”

“Exactly.”

Peter swung himself onto the roof of the old industrial warehouse where he’d just seen the car thief pull in. He climbed down the side of the building just far enough to peek into a high window. It was definitely some sort of workshop. There were about a dozen cars inside, some covered, some being worked on.

“Karen, can you check if any of the uncovered cars match any stolen vehicle reports?”

“Scanning… the makes and models are matches for recently stolen vehicles, but the license plates are not.”

“Right, they’re probably changing out the plates. Okay, notify the police and send them this location.”

Peter climbed back onto the roof to wait. The building had a lot of exits, so figured he’d watch to be sure no one got away.

Only one police car came, but it eased up to the warehouse without sirens so as not to alert the people inside. Peter saw two officers get out and start to creep towards the building.

“Karen, did you tell the police how many bad guys were here?”

“I reported 8 possible hostiles inside.”

“Huh.” From the looks of it, they hadn’t believed the report so they’d just sent a couple guys to check it out. He supposed it made sense; they had no way to know that it wasn’t a trap. But there was no way these two officers were going to be able to take on the whole crew of car thieves.

His thoughts were interrupted by one of the officers yelling “Get on the ground!”

Suddenly the warehouse erupted in chaos as the officers entered the building and the bad guys opened fire. “They’re going to get themselves killed,” Peter muttered, swinging down through one of the upper windows.

The police were crouched behind a metal counter at one side of the warehouse, exchanging gunfire with the car thieves. Peter noticed a couple bad guys running towards the back door, and he webbed them up before anyone noticed. Then he webbed the door shut, just for good measure.

Two down, but that left 6 currently resisting arrest.

Peter swung up towards the rafters and saw one of the thieves trying to work his way over to where the police were crouched. He dropped on top of him and webbed him to the floor, too.

Peter continued that way, swinging and weaving through the warehouse, pinning car thieves to the floor when he had the chance. When they were finally all down, Peter noticed that the police still had their guns up.

“Hands on your head!”

Peter put his hands on his head; but the officer still had his gun pointed towards him - he definitely didn’t want to be shot. “Who, me? I didn’t steal any cars, unlike these guys in here. You’re welcome, by the way.”

One of the officers got up slowly and started coming towards him with a pair of handcuffs, and nope, that wasn’t going to happen. “Cuff these guys on the floor. The webbing will wear off in a while.”

The officer kept advancing on him.

With a sigh, he shot a web back towards the ceiling and went straight up, twisting to sail back out through the window and onto the roof.

“Karen, I think we’ve worn out our welcome.”

Once Peter had put some distance between himself and the warehouse, he paused on a rooftop.

“Peter, your backpack is leaking.”

He swung the bag off his back - he really should’ve stashed it somewhere tonight, but he still hadn’t found a good place, and May was past tired of buying him new ones.

“Aw man! Gross.” The drink he’d been carrying with his snacks had sprung a leak and left a wet mess that had seeped out of the bag and all down the back of his suit.

But wait a second… it hadn’t sprung a leak on its own… there was a bullet hole through his backpack. Not good.

“May’s gonna kill me. A bullet went through my backpack. That’s what broke my drink open.”

In fact, the more Peter thought about it, the more worried he became. May had told him not to go anywhere near those guys. And he certainly wasn’t supposed to be near anyone who was shooting guns in his direction. If he told her about the bullet hole, she might decide to ban him from going out as Spider-Man. Like, permanently.

Luckily, this wasn’t his school backpack. He used two now: one for school, and one for Spider-Man. But still, he couldn’t ask her for another Spider-Man backpack without telling her what had happened to his. He supposed he could leave it somewhere and tell her it’d been stolen. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Then again, if he did that she’d just say he was being irresponsible and maybe ground him anyway.

Peter plopped down on the roof between two air conditioners. “Hey, Karen? Do you think Mr. Stark is still awake?”

“Only one way to find out. Would you like me to call him?”

“Sure.” Of the two of them, his dad was far less likely to freak out about a bullet hole. Maybe he’d even be willing to get him another backpack without telling May.

The call connected right away. “Peter? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry, are you busy?”

“Not at all. What’s up? Aren’t you out on patrol?”

“Yeah. I uh… I actually foiled some car thieves tonight, so that was good. The police came and everything.”

“Good job. So where to next?”

“Well… I kind of hit a bit of a snag.”

“Oh?”

Peter suppressed a cringe. His dad’s voice had taken on the tone of someone who was waiting for bad news.

“I sorta got a hole in my backpack. Not the one I use for school - the one that I use to carry stuff out on patrol. By the way, is it safe to put the suit in the washing machine? My drink broke open and got my suit all sticky.”

“First of all, no, do not put your multi-million dollar suit in the washing machine. Second, how, exactly, did your backpack and drink break open?”

And oh man, he hated it when his dad used that tone.

“Um. It’s a bullet hole, I guess. Probably from the warehouse. A lot of people were shooting.”

“A bullet hole.”

Now Peter was cringing. “Yes?”

“Just to be clear: you got shot in the back and didn’t realize it until now.”

“In the back _pack_. Nothing came near my skin. The only damage is to my bag, I swear.”

“That’s way too close, kid. You realize that you were inches away - maybe less - from getting a bullet in your body, right?”

“No, I - I don’t know how to describe it. I can tell when I’m in danger. I can… feel if something’s coming that I need to worry about. I don’t even have to think about it, I just move. I swear if a bullet had been heading for my body, I would’ve moved.” And now that he thought about it, that might’ve been exactly what had happened. 

“Okay, we need to tackle this whole danger-sense thing next time you’re up here. For now, just go home. You’re done for tonight. Don’t wash the suit. Put it in a bag, and I’ll have Happy come by tomorrow to pick it up.”

“Yeah, okay. Will I get the suit back? Soon?”

“Sooner than I’d like, yeah. You’ll have to take tomorrow night off - I do NOT want you patrolling without it - but I can get it back to you in a day or so.”

Peter sagged in relief. This was actually going way better than he’d hoped. “Thanks! That’s awesome.”

Peter debated ditching his bag on the way home, but ultimately decided against it. The last thing he’d want is for someone to happen to find it, recognize it was one Spider-Man was seen wearing, and then make a big deal about there being a bullet hole in it. Ideally, May would never find out his backpack had been shot, but if she ever did find out, the 11-o'clock news was definitely not the way he wanted it to happen. Instead, he stuffed his backpack into a plastic bag and threw it into the bottom of his closet. Maybe he could wash the stickiness off and then patch it up or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Legends is not a real series (as far as I know) - but it totally sounds like something Ned would watch. I've decided to use made-up TV shows and movie names for this story whenever they're watching something in the present day to avoid dating this story. Any past movies/shows they refer to will probably be real.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash is still being a jerk at school, but a weekend up at the compound with Mr. Stark makes everything better.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy this last bit of fluff before things start to unravel a bit. :)

The next day at school Peter started noticing Lindsey everywhere. He’d barely taken note of her when she’d first been introduced, but it seemed that her and Flash had become fast friends and now everywhere Flash went, Lindsey was there too. Apparently, Lindsey had decided that in order to remain Flash’s friend she needed to laugh at all his dumb jokes, which only encouraged him to tell more.

“Hey Parker, did your good friend Spider-Man ever tell you that he got me a new car?”

Peter was 100% positive that the new car had gone to Flash’s dad to replace the one Spider-Man had wrecked the night of the prom, but Flash didn’t seem interested in accuracy. Peter ignored him and kept his focus on the terribly-easy ten minute run they were doing.

“Has Spidey ever gotten you a car? Since you’re such good friends?”

Peter shook his head and kept jogging.

“Lindsey, have you heard? Peter has an amazing internship with none other than Tony Stark himself. So he hangs out with superheroes all day and… what exactly do you do again, Parker? I think he does their laundry, honestly.”

Lindsey snorted, and Peter just rolled his eyes and kept jogging. Hopefully once the new girl had heard all of Flash’s insults, they’d move on to other topics.

The rest of the day was filled with more mocking. It seemed as if Flash had stepped up his game to impress the new girl, or something. But once he got home and saw that Happy had not only taken the suit, but also left him a brand new backpack, all his trouble with Flash was forgotten.

He shot a quick text to his dad, thanking him for the backpack, and got back the response, “It’s not bullet proof - be careful!”

 

 

By Friday evening Peter was up at the compound eating homemade lasagna. He’d discovered that Mr. Stark was actually a pretty good cook, but he couldn’t help but be surprised by the revelation. Between going to MIT, and inventing things, and all the tech he was always coming up with, Peter couldn’t imagine where he’d found the time to learn to cook too.

“This is really good, Mr. Stark. Homemade lasagna is so much better than the frozen stuff from the store. How’d you learn how to make it? Where’d you even find _time_ to learn to cook?”

“Well… this is actually your Grandma Maria’s recipe. As for cooking… I don’t know. Some things just make sense to me, you know? I used to watch my mother cook when I was tiny, and I always found it interesting. It was kind of like watching a chemist create some kind of new formula. I convinced one of my nannies to let me hang out in the kitchen once in a while, and our chef taught me a few of the basics. After that, it was really just a matter of following recipes and understanding how ingredients come together.”

Peter nodded, eager as always to soak up any information about his dad’s past that he could. Mr. Stark had promised to always be honest with him, but he didn’t really talk much about his childhood on his own. Sometimes when he was talking about something, he’d mention a few details about his past, but he didn’t seem to want to sit down and detail his childhood.

From what Peter had learned from little comments here and there, though, it was no wonder Mr. Stark wasn’t eager to talk about it. It seemed as if his dad had spent most of his youth in the care of nannies and the rest of it off at a boarding school. It made growing up filthy rich seem a lot less appealing. Peter couldn’t imagine being away from family all the time and always being taken care of by someone who was only doing it because it was their job. Not that his nannies hadn’t cared for him - Mr. Stark seemed to have a lot of fond memories of those times, but Peter couldn’t imagine it being the same as being cared for by your own family.

But he never complained. Then again, Peter had noticed that Mr. Stark tended not to complain, really. At least not seriously, and not about anything that mattered.

“May’s taught me a couple of things in the kitchen, but I’m not that good.”

Mr. Stark shrugged. “I see it kinda like a science. You learn the basics, and then you can experiment and try new things - it’s fun. I could show you sometime, if you wanted.”

“Yeah.. I mean, I think that’d be cool.”

Finishing the last bite of lasagna, he laid his fork down. “Ned said he’d be here around 1 tomorrow, by the way. And he has to leave after dinner.” He’d warned his dad earlier in the week that Ned would be coming Saturday, but Ned hadn’t been sure what time.

“Got it. Anything you need from me? Is he gonna want to fly a quinjet or take one of the suits for a spin?”

Peter’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “...Are those… options?”

“No, of course not.” Mr. Stark smiled. “I could show him a _picture_ of the quinjet or let him see one of the suits from behind glass…”

“I kinda thought I’d just show him my room and the workout room… maybe show him the car and the road I practice on.”

“Even better.”

 

 

After dinner Peter discovered that his ‘danger-sense’, as his dad was calling it now, wasn’t as reliable as he thought.

“I gotcha again, kid. Are you even trying?”

Mr. Stark was controlling a stealth drone around the gym, while Peter ran an obstacle course while trying to avoid being hit by the beam the drone would fire at him from random spots.

Peter stopped, facing the viewing room where his dad was. “It’s not that I’m not trying. I think it might be because I’m not in danger? I mean… I don’t feel endangered by this? So maybe that’s why it doesn’t work?”

“Okay, but then how do you explain the regular drone program? You always seem to be able to sense those coming and avoid them. Those aren’t a real danger either.”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, it just feels different. That one is like… like a video game or something. I get excited because I want to win.”

“So we may be looking at some sort of adrenal response, then; it only works when you feel stress.” His dad paused. “Which means either you’re just not that into this obstacle course, or you don’t really want to win.”

He felt like it’d be weird to try to explain that something about his dad directly controlling the drone just made the whole exercise feel more… friendly. And he was so glad just to be here working on stuff. It just made it a little hard to get competitive. “Yeah, uh. I don’t know. I guess I’m just not feeling that competitive right now?”

“All right, let’s pack it up. We’ll have to figure out another way to do this.”

 

 

By the time Ned arrived the next day, lunch was over and a light snow had begun to fall. There was still a good amount of slush on the ground from the previous week when it had snowed every day, but Mr. Stark’s staff kept the roads around the compound plowed, so the road he typically used for driving practice could still be seen from their vantage point of a second-story window.

“It’s weird that only that one road has markings. Like, it’s got the yellow lines up the middle and everything. All the other roads around here are blank.”

“Yeah, that was on purpose. Mr. Stark had my practice road painted with regular lane markers so I could practice staying on my side. Sometimes he has people drive around on it while I’m practicing to simulate real traffic too.”

“That’s way cool. Does he ever get robot drivers?”

“Actually, he did once. He wanted to simulate a traffic jam so he got a bunch of automated drivers to fill up the road so I’d know what it was like to drive in heavy traffic. It was ridiculous.”

Ned chuckled, gazing down at the road as if trying to imagine it. “Robot traffic. Oh man, I wish I had a genius robot overlord dad.”

 

 

Tony poked the virtual schematics in front of him, causing a new layer to fall away. He was getting very close to increasing the strength-to-weight ratio on Rhodey’s leg braces, but there were a couple joints that still had to be slimmed down a bit to keep it fitting inside the armor.

“So I see Pete brought a friend today. I’m surprised they’re not in here watching you work.”

Tony turned the schematic on its side and answered Happy without looking up. “If it were up to Ned they probably would be. Peter dragged him away as soon as he got here and started asking millions of questions without bothering to breathe.”

Happy chuckled. “It’s nice that he’s bringing friends over.”

Tony nodded, still mostly focused on the hologram in front of him. As much has Happy seemed to be trying to keep things casual, it felt like there was probably more on his mind. And since he wasn’t already talking about whatever it was, that meant he was trying to be careful. A sensitive subject, then.

He was halfway through some mental calculations on an alloy he was considering when Happy finally spoke again.

“So does Peter ever mention anyone else?”

“Come again?”

“I mean… does he ever talk about his other friends?”

Though it was pretty clear by the other man’s hesitation that this was the sensitive issue he’d been trying to get at, Tony had absolutely no idea where he was going with this.

He swiveled his stool around to face Happy, who had a hip leaned ever-so-casually against a nearby workbench. “You mean other kids at school? Yeah, he mentions them.”

“No, it’s just - when I was looking out for him, as far as I could tell the only kid he ever really hung out with was Ned. At least outside of school. But now that you guys are talking more… I just wondered if he seemed to have anyone else around.”

It took him several seconds to process what Happy was asking. Finally, it dawned on him, and he almost laughed out loud. He actually would have, if not for the completely serious look on Happy’s face.

“You’re worried about Peter’s _social life_?”

“Yeah. A kid his age? A kid in high school? He should have tons of friends. He should be having people over all the time, and going to his friends’ houses.”

Tony could almost see where Happy was coming from… especially if he considered the fact that Happy’s childhood had been much closer to the typical TV variety than anything Tony had ever known.

“You realize you’re talking to the guy who grew up at boarding school and then college with literally no friends, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s not you.”

“Of course not. He has superpowers and a secret identity.”

“Okay, point taken. I get that his life is complicated. I just wonder if… I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I’m even talking about, never mind. Sorry to bring it up.”

“No, it’s fine. You care about the kid; that’s nothing to apologize for.” He smirked. “I promise that if he ever has questions about the finer points of hosting a teenaged rave at his apartment, I’ll have him call you.”

Happy wandered away after that, but the idea of Peter not being able to make friends lingered in Tony’s mind. On one hand, the kid seemed to have a pretty full life between going out as Spider-Man, going to school, and coming up to the compound… Tony wasn’t sure there was really room in his life for a lot more social activity. On the other hand, what the hell did he know about the ideal number of friendships for a teenage kid? Hands down, Tony was the single least qualified person he could think of when it came to determining what a normal life looked like.

Maybe Peter was just an awkward science kid who had trouble making friends. Or, maybe he purposefully kept people at arm’s length to minimize the risk of anyone finding out his secret.

Or, maybe the kids at his school were just a bunch of morons that he had nothing in common with. Now that, Tony could relate to. In any case, he supposed there was no way to know for sure without asking Peter himself.

Which he definitely wasn’t going to do. He wasn’t about to force Peter to endure an awkward parental conversation about his social life. As long as the kid seemed happy, and he did, Tony wasn’t going to poke at something that could potentially be painful.

 

 

By three that afternoon, Peter and Ned were in the viewing room just off the gym watching one of Peter’s training videos.

“I mean… can I just say how cool it is that you’re basically playing laser tag with flying droids? Your life is like a Star Wars movie, man. Except, you know, your dad’s not evil. And you probably don’t have a twin sister. Or a lightsaber.”

“Yeah, I don’t think this is anything like Star Wars, Ned.”

“I’m just saying that-“

Suddenly Mr. Stark appeared in the doorway. “Hey guys.”

Both boys looked up immediately, then Peter glanced at Ned trying to judge whether or not he’d be able to contain himself.

“So I have a little surprise, if you’re interested.”

“What is it?” Peter asked.

“I happen to have an advance copy of Technic if you’d like to watch it with me in the home theater. I thought if you guys wanted, we could turn it on, have some popcorn…”

“Whoa, really?” Peter exclaimed.

“Holy crap! Technic? That’s not out in theaters for another three weeks!” Ned looked like he was about to explode.

Mr. Stark shrugged. “I consulted on a couple technical details for them, so they sent me an advance copy as a thank you.”

It was obvious that Ned was interested, so Peter answered. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Great. Meet in the theater in ten? I’ll get the snacks going.”

“Yep.” Peter turned back to Ned as his dad walked out the door.

“In the _theater_? You guys have a theater here? Do you get to watch all the newest movies early? Is that like a thing around here? Oh my god, your dad is rich and famous. Does he get invited to movie premieres? Do you think he’d let you come? You could maybe bring a friend, right?”

“Ned.” Peter pushed his friend towards the door. “We’re going to miss the movie if you don’t start walking.”

Ned was only mildly disappointed to find out they usually used the home theater for watching Netflix together, and no, they hadn’t been invited to any movie premieres - at least none that Peter knew of.

They ended up staying in the theater room for dinner, eating pizza and watching another movie, but once Ned left for home, Peter decided he’d ask a couple of Ned’s questions.

“So thanks for letting us watch Technic, that was pretty amazing.”

Mr. Stark was mindlessly munching on popcorn, his socked feet propped up on the cushion in front of him. “Eh, I’ve seen better.”

“No, I mean just getting to watch it early was cool. Do you get to do that often?”

“Huh. I guess I could… but it’s not something I’ve ever looked into. Why, is there something coming up that you’d like to see early?”

“No, I was just wondering. I guess I kinda forgot how famous you are, you know? It’s weird.”

Tony snorted. “Honestly kid, it’s weird for me too sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a bit about my head canon for Happy's background over at my Tumblr. ([link here](https://capiocapi.tumblr.com/post/177228209645/happy-hogan-headcanon-just-because-so-this-just))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something concerning happens at school, and the media are being jerks.

 

 The next week at school found Peter sitting with Ned in the cafeteria having a bit of a friendly argument.

“But Peter, the thing is, Batman should always win because he has access to kryptonite.”

“Yeah, but Superman’s an alien. He could just shoot Batman with his laser eyes from like a mile away. What’s the range of kryptonite? Like three feet? If he were smart, he wouldn’t even get that close.”

“They’d both lose because they’re not real,” Michelle chimed in from the end of the table without even looking up from her book.

Peter’s phone buzzed in his pocket as Ned turned to answer her. He unlocked his phone to see that Mr. Stark had texted him a picture of a salad with the words “Is it really a lunch meeting if the ‘lunch’ is a plate of lettuce?”

He snorted and took a quick picture of the half-eaten chicken sandwich and fries that were sitting on his lunch tray. He sent the photo with the words “Is this better?”

Dimly, he became aware that Ned and Michelle had stopped talking. He looked up and saw them both staring at him.

“What?”

Michelle narrowed her eyes. “Since when do you take pictures of your food?”

Peter shrugged. “Uh... maybe I’m starting a food blog?”

Before she could react, Ned started nodding to back him up and added, “He’s a real foodie!”

Michelle continued staring another couple of seconds before shaking her head and going back to her book.

Relieved, Peter looked back down at his phone. His dad had answered with a little vomiting emoji to show what he thought of school lunches.

Ned leaned close, peering down at the screen. “Who’s Tim?”

Peter answered in a mutter, “It’s a relative that no one can know the identity of.”

“Ohhhhh” Ned nodded.

 

 

Peter got a text from Michelle right at the start of Spanish class that just said, “Looking forward to your foodie blog.”

Instead of replying, he stuffed the phone into his coat pocket and got out his notebook. They were reviewing vocabulary today, most of which they’d learned before the winter break.

Mr. Rodriguez put various word lists up on the board and had different students come up to correct spelling mistakes he’d purposefully left.

“Remember, even one letter or an accent in the wrong place can change the whole meaning of a word. If it’s spelled wrong on a test, you’ll get a zero for the whole word, even if it’s just a missing accent.”

Peter’s mind drifted a bit. He’d pretty much learned all the chapter’s vocabulary already. Spanish was something he practiced with people in the neighborhood, so he didn’t have to study as much.

“Class, can anyone find the mistake Flash missed on this list?”

Peter glanced around the room and then stared down at his notes. He didn’t bother answering because he figured the teacher already knew he’d know the answer. Better to let the other kids piss off Flash for once.

“Anybody? Peter? Can you tell me what Flash missed?”

So much for that. Peter looked up. “ _Vacaciones_ doesn’t need an accent on the ‘o’”

“Uh, don’t all the words ending in ‘ _cion_ ’ get accents on the o’s?” Flash asked, looking at Mr. Rodriguez.

But the teacher looked at him again. “Peter?”

He sighed. “It’s plural so it has another syllable on the end, and words ending in a vowel, n, or s, get stressed on the second-to-last syllable, or they need an accent. And since the stress is already there, it doesn’t need an accent.”

“Correct. _Gracias_ , Señor Parker.”

Flash glared daggers at Peter as Mr. Rodriguez moved to the next word list. Which was kind of annoying - it wasn’t  _his_ fault Flash didn’t ever look at his notes. This was all stuff that they’d gone over before.

 

 

After class, Peter was heading down the hall towards his last class of the day when suddenly whatever it was that normally warned him of danger kicked in. The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly all stood up, and his heart began to pound.

He whipped around, looking for the source, just barely keeping himself from leaping to the ceiling to avoid whatever it was. The only problem was that this time the feeling wasn’t giving him a direction to move in; there was just this nagging sense of danger coming from no particular direction.

“ _What the hell_....?”

He moved towards the nearest lockers, putting his back to them so he could scan the hallway. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Students were opening and closing lockers all around him, getting books out and putting them away. Some were standing around in groups chatting outside their classes, waiting for the bell to ring. He could see Flash and Lindsey standing close to each other, in deep discussion a few doors down. Abe was across the hall bouncing a small ball on his knee next to Charles, who was dragging a couple of huge binders out of his locker.

He felt like he could hear every individual sound in the noisy hallway, and he noticed every single movement all at once while his mind raced in a desperate attempted to figure out what his body was trying to tell him.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” Ned appeared right next to him, and somehow he hadn’t even noticed him coming.

“I uh... I don’t know.” His voice shook, but he couldn’t even spare the attention to be embarrassed by it.

“Are you getting sick or something? You look like maybe you’re getting sick.”

“Uh...” Peter forced his attention away from the chaos in the hallway. Trying to focus on everything at once was too overwhelming. Instead, he looked at Ned. “No, I’m fine. Uh... I’ll tell you later. Let’s get to class.”

Then, despite the fact that his body was still screaming at him that something was wrong, he made himself start walking again. He stuffed his trembling hands into his pockets and stared down at his feet as he made his way to class, doing his best to ignore the wall of noise and distraction all around him.

He couldn’t help but flinch when the bell rang, just barely keeping himself from covering his ears.

Their seats were across the room from each other, but Ned was right next to him again as soon as class was over. He slipped into the seat right in front of Peter’s and turned around, lowering his voice.

“So what’s going on?”

“Can you come over today?” He’d been able to gradually calm down during the last class, but he still felt vaguely unsettled. He just wanted to go back to the apartment.

“Yeah, let me just text my mom and grab a book from my locker.”

Even though it was becoming pretty clear that Peter had probably freaked out over nothing, he still opted to wait outside. He didn’t want to spend any more time in the hallway than strictly necessary.

 

 

“So do you think you had like a panic attack or something?”

He’d felt fine on the way home, but Ned wasted no time starting the conversation once they were safely inside the apartment. Peter explained the best he could… but it was tough to explain a sense that no one else had.

“This wasn’t panic. I mean, it kinda felt like panic, but it wasn’t panic.”

“Because your description sure sounds like a panic attack…”

Peter sighed. “Yeah but - it’s like I said... normally it’s just like a… like a spike of something. And I move automatically. Like in the same way you automatically close your eyes when something’s flying towards your face. You don’t make the decision to close your eyes, they just close to protect themselves.”

“Right…” Ned answered, still seeming unsure.

“So that’s how it is. I just feel a spike of… something, kinda like adrenaline… and my body automatically moves to protect itself. Sometimes I know what the danger is, sometimes I don’t. But this was like… it was like that usual spike had nowhere to go and it just built and built. Like there was no place I could go to protect myself, so my body was just screaming that it was in danger.”

“First, that sounds terrible. Second, there’s gotta be a way to figure this out.”

Ned got quiet, starting into space while he mulled it over. Suddenly he spoke again.

“Hey, what about your dad? He’s a science guy! Maybe he’d be able to help figure out what happened!”

Peter started shaking his head before Ned was even finished. “No. We’re not telling him.”

“Why not? He’s way smarter than I am.”

“First, he’s on a business trip right now and I don’t want him thinking that he can’t leave for a couple days without things falling apart. Second, yeah he’s been trying to help me figure out this danger-sense thing I have, but so far we haven’t made a lot of progress and I don’t want him to hear about this and freak out and tell me to stop going out as Spider-Man. Or worse, to tell May and freak _her_ out.”

“But how do you know that it won’t happen again when you’re out swinging around? How do you know your powers won’t malfunction and make you panic in the middle of the city somewhere?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think that will happen. I’m telling you, Ned, there was something there. My body wasn’t making this up. There was something in the hallway today that I just couldn’t see.”

Ned sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Okay then. We have to approach this scientifically. You said sometimes you know what triggers your danger-sense, and sometimes you don’t, right? So what usually triggers it - when it’s working normally?”

“Usually it’s when I’m fighting, like avoiding being hit by things. Like if someone throws something at me I sense it coming and just get out of the way. I automatically know if it’s something I can catch, or if I need to dodge.”

“Man, that’s useful.”

“And sometimes I just get this sense that I shouldn’t go a certain way or do a certain thing. Like when I’m looking for a place to change into the suit. I just know when it’s safe - when no one is looking.”

“Hmm.” Ned nodded slowly. “Then maybe this was like that? Maybe your sense-thing was telling you to not go a certain way or not do a certain thing.”

“But it didn’t really feel like that. If I’m about to take off my mask and someone is looking, I can feel it - I know someone is watching and I just wait or go somewhere else until I don’t feel it anymore. This didn’t feel the same. It was like... danger with no solution.”

Ned shook his head, “I don’t know, Peter. I think this is more than we can figure out ourselves.”

Peter sighed, and started to open his backpack. If they couldn’t get anywhere with his problem, they could at least get started on some homework. May would be happy to see them working when she got home.

“Wait a second! Wait just one second! Peter! _Peter!_ Are you _sure_ your sense-thing always works? Can it be blocked or something? Because I just realized that I totally saw you take off your mask and you didn’t sense a thing, right? And the same with your aunt. That’s how she found out, right?”

“Those don’t count because I trust you guys. That’s something I’ve actually been able to test. People who are close to me, people I trust... they don’t make my sense freak out. It’s like you guys just don’t register as a danger to me.”

Ned frowned. “I’m plenty dangerous.”

“Yeah, so is Tony Stark, but he doesn’t set it off either.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”

 

 

That night Peter was patrolling near a movie theater, making idle conversation with Karen as he moved through the city.

“You agree, though, right Karen? Superman would totally beat Batman.”

“You _do_ make a good argument, Peter.”

“Thanks Karen, now if—”

Suddenly Peter felt that sense again, and before he knew it, he was swinging down and landing directly in front of a shiny red sports car. He planted his feet and stopped the car right before it would’ve plowed into a group of teens who’d been crossing the street in front of the theater.

The teens behind him started screaming and ran for the safety of the curb while Peter checked on the driver. The man appeared to be shocked, but otherwise okay.

“Hey man, this is a crosswalk. You’re supposed to stop for people crossing, not speed up!”

“Oh my god, I almost hit them. I didn’t even see them.”

Peter glanced at the teens, who had recovered enough that most of them had taken out their phones and started recording. A couple of them looked vaguely familiar - probably students from his school.

He shot a web at the nearest building and swung away, circling the block before landing on a rooftop.

Well that put one worry to rest, at least. His danger-sense was definitely still working as usual. At least for now.

 

 

He’d been right: a few of those kids  _had_ been Midtown High students. The next afternoon the student news included an interview with one of them and a clip from a cell phone showing Spider-Man standing in front of a sports car with the front hood crumpled.

“He was amazing! He literally just dropped down from nowhere and saved us from being run over!”

Ned came up to his locker and nudged him. “So Spider-Man is Midtown High’s biggest hero ever. People are like ‘Avengers, who?’ - it’s awesome.”

“It’s not a competition, Ned.”

“But if it  _was_ a competition, Spider-Man would be winning it. I mean, first he saves the decathlon team in Washington, and then he saves those kids last night... nobody even _cares_ what they’re saying in the news.”

“Ned, I don’t even - wait, the news? What is the news saying?”

“Dude, you haven’t seen it? It’s been all over social media today. Apparently the guy who was driving the sports car is claiming that Spider-Man gave him whiplash or something. He’s saying he wishes he’d come forward with his identity so he could sue him.”

“He wants to sue Spider-Man?”

“Yeah, he’s a jerk, though. I mean, he was speeding through an intersection where kids were crossing. Nobody cares what he says except the people who never liked Spider-Man anyway. They’re just using it as another excuse to complain.”

“Uh...” Peter didn’t know what to say. He’d been vaguely aware that some people didn’t appreciate Spider-Man as much as others, and he knew that the police weren't always super grateful for his help, but Ned made it sound like he had some kind of anti-fan club or something.

The bell rang, saving him from having to come up with anything to say, and he dashed to class.

It was history class, and Mr. Richards was lecturing again so Peter got out his laptop and pretended to take notes while he did a little research.

Ned was right - the guy from last night had already talked to reporters, wearing a big white neck brace, using words like ‘excessive force’ and ‘unnatural’. There was one quote that most the news sites seemed to have picked up: “Is he even human?”

Of course, that led to a few related articles rehashing the Battle of New York, and questioning whether aliens had actually already come to the planet and were secretly living among us.

Giving people whiplash, apparently.

Only a few articles even mentioned that he’d actually stopped the car from hitting people. One article said he’d stopped the car for kids who’d “allegedly” been in the street.

The bell rang again, and Peter closed his laptop with a sigh. The media sucked.

He was packing up his stuff when the guy who sat behind him shuffled by and said, “The news people are assholes. Spider-Man is a hero. If you want real facts about him, check out the Spider Watch blog.”

“Uh... thanks.”

 

 

Peter stayed in that night to work on homework.

He also did a quick search and found the Spider Watch blog the guy in his history class had mentioned. He’d been curious what ‘facts’ about Spider-Man it might contain, but it turned out to be just a column detailing the various Spider-Man sightings around Queens. At least all the accounts were written from a positive viewpoint - that was nice. So instead of reporting how he’d hurt some dude’s neck, it talked about how he’d saved some kids from getting hit by a car.

It was nice to see. A little too... hero-worshippy for his comfort, maybe... but nice.

His phone rang and he looked down at it to see a picture of his bedroom lamp. He really needed to set a new contact photo for Mr. Stark. He’d been going for something anonymous, but he'd been too lazy to leave his room that day. So now his dad was a lamp.

“Hey,” he answered, running ideas for a new photo through is mind. Maybe he could get a nice shot of the skyline next time he was out.

“Hey, kiddo! So I saw the news. How you holding up?”

“I’m fine. They never get anything right, so...”

“Yeah. Hey, if you ever want me to make a statement in support of Spider-Man, let me know. I could publicly thank him for saving those kids, or make a statement about whether or not he’s human... although I think keeping them in the dark about that one could be fun. The more they suspect Spider-Man of being an alien, the less anyone would be inclined to believe he’s you.”

Peter chuckled. “That’s true; that would be a perfect alibi. Unless they think _I’m_ an alien...”

“Well, no more alien than any typical teenager.” His dad’s voice was warm with affection, and just what Peter needed tonight.

“So anyway, let me circle back around here, kid. You did good. You saved those kids. Screw the reporters, your old man is proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Peter answered, almost embarrassed. He didn’t know what else to say. He still wasn’t entirely used to having people know about the things he did.

“And like I said, I’ll totally make an official statement about it if that’s something you ever want, but for now, I going to ignore the press inquiries I’m getting about Spider-Man.”

“They’re asking you about it?”

“Yeah, because of Iron Man and the Avengers I always get asked to comment on any type of hero activity. Do I know who it is? Do I approve? Is it related to something I’m doing? That type of thing.”

“That makes sense.”

“But in general, comments from me tend to bring more attention to things rather than less, so I’ll keep quiet about Spider-Man for now, unless you really need me to say something. Because the minute I do, it’ll stop being just a local story.”

“Right. No, it’s fine. I don’t want this to get any extra press.”

“I’m sure there’ll be a celebrity scandal in a few days that will get everyone’s attention.”

“Ha, true.”

Peter briefly considered mentioning his possibly-malfunctioning powers, but decided against it almost immediately. Mr. Stark was a science guy; he’d want to figure it out right away. But what if it was something that couldn’t be figured out? In the meantime, he’d tell him to stop going out as Spider-Man.

But if he’d stopped when his powers first went wacky, he wouldn’t have been out last night and those kids would’ve been hit by that car.

No, there was no way he could stop. Not now. He’d just have to figure this out himself.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is relieved to see that the news seems to have moved on from last week's Spider-Man story, but just as he's getting comfortable, trouble hits much closer to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - work has been intense! :)

Mr. Stark was right: by Thursday something else happened that completely took over the news cycle and the guy who’d supposedly suffered whiplash at Spider-Man’s hands was old news.

Of course, Midtown High still hadn’t gotten over their “Spidey Fever,” but Peter could handle that. At least no one was accusing him of being an alien or a public menace.

After school, Peter stopped by his locker for his Spanish book. Ned was staying to tutor some freshman in math, so he figured he’d study the next chapter on the bus and then head out to patrol once he got home.

But just as he was pulling his book out, the feeling hit again. He dropped his book into his bag and turned around, his back to the lockers. There weren’t many people still around, but his danger-sense was in full red-alert mode. 

Peter reached over and shut his locker, careful not to use too much force. He had no idea what was going on. He swung his backpack onto his back and scanned the hallway ceiling. No one was hiding up there, and it didn’t _look_ like it was about to cave in…

He forced himself not to concentrate too much on his surroundings even though his body was screaming that there was something he needed to know; if he let his senses get out of control without the suit, he’d just end up getting overwhelmed. He tried to take deep slow breaths, telling himself that everything was fine.

But his body wasn’t buying it; something was really wrong. Unfortunately, without any sense of where the danger was coming from, Peter had no way to focus all that energy.

He decided to act as if he were on patrol, but undercover. He just had to figure out what as wrong so he could fix it.

Peter jogged down to one end of the hallway and started back, checking each classroom as he went. Most were locked. One had the Spanish club meeting inside it - he ducked away quickly before someone saw him and thought he was staying.

Another classroom had a student volunteer meeting going - he didn’t want _them_ to see him either. After that there was the building’s computer lab, which had several students in some kind of study club, more locked classrooms, and a class where a teacher was doing some tutoring. 

Peter continued straight out the door and down the steps of the school. Once he was outside, he started to feel a little better, but there was still something… the problem was that he couldn’t figure out where or what it was. 

 

 

He felt completely normal that evening on patrol. 

“Hey Karen, has there been anything in the news about my school?”

“Nothing has come up in any alerts, but I can take a closer look if you’d like.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Just in case.”

“Sure, Peter. Is there anything specific you want me to look for?”

“Uh… I’m not sure. Just anything new or different.” He honestly had no idea what it could be, but _something_ had to be going on at his school. 

He caught sight of a group of three guys talking loudly as they came near the entrance of an all-night laundromat. He could feel his danger-sense going off this time, too, but now it felt more normal: he knew whatever danger there was, it was centered on those guys.

He dropped down behind them just before they made it through the door. “Hey guys! Gonna do some late-night laundry?”

They turned around startled, and one of them immediately drew a knife out of his jacket and brandished it in Peter’s direction. “Move along, Spidey. This don’t concern you.”

“Yeah, it’s none of your business,” another said.

Peter held up his hands. “Hey just looking for some laundry tips, you know? You guys look like you really know how to-” 

He shot a web and ripped the knife from the first guy’s hand. “-how to wash your clothes without weapons. Guess I was wrong about that. My bad.”

All three guys rushed him at once, but the fight was over before it’d even started. He had them webbed up on the sidewalk before they’d managed to move more than a few feet. 

Which might’ve been a bad idea, now that he thought about it. They were kind of blocking the door. Peter looked through the glass into the laundromat and noticed a woman in there, laundry bag clutched against her chest, staring wide-eyed at the scene just outside.

“Uh… sorry, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’ll move them out of your way.”

Peter dragged the guys over a few feet and webbed them to a pole. Just as the woman was darting out the door, one of the guys screamed, “Next time, bitch!” causing the woman to break into a run.

“Nope, none of that.” Peter webbed his mouth shut. Then, just for good measure, he added even more webbing, securing the guys against the pole. It’d probably take the police a while to get them unstuck now, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to be sorry.

He climbed to the roof to wait for the police while Karen called in the report. 

While he waiting, he asked Karen for an update on his school.

“I haven’t found any news about Midtown High, but an alert _did_ come in from your student account a few minutes ago.”

“Oh? What’s it say?” The school typically sent tons of messages out to the student accounts about everything from notices on club meetings to special testing days to school holidays, but Karen didn’t usually notify him of those in the middle of patrol.

“You’ve received a message saying that three of your grades have dropped below a C.”

That wasn’t possible. Peter sighed. “Okay, I’ll head home and see what’s going on.”

 

 

May was happy to see him back early, of course, so Peter played it off, telling her he’d just decided to shorten his patrol so he could come home and do some extra school work. 

In his room, Peter logged into his student account and looked at his grades. For some reason it was showing that he was no longer passing his History, Math, or Spanish classes. Further investigation showed that he was suddenly missing several assignments in each of those classes. 

Which was completely wrong because Peter had done all of the work. It had to be a glitch of some kind.

He wondered if it was a system-wide glitch.

Since it wasn’t too late yet, he decided he’d call Ned and ask.

Ned sounded a little preoccupied when he answered. Probably in the middle of doing his own homework.

“Hey man, you didn’t go out tonight?”

“I did, but I came home a little early. I got an alert from my student account saying I wasn’t passing some of my classes anymore. Did you get anything?”

Ned gasped. “Oh man, I don’t know! Let me check.”

Peter heard Ned fumbling around his room and then he was back. “Dude! Don’t scare me like that! My grades are fine. You’re not passing? What happened?”

“Nothing, I think it’s a glitch. It’s showing that I haven’t been turning in assignments.”

“But you have been, haven’t you? I mean, you always say you do.”

“Yeah, of course I have. I’ve been doing all my work - it’s one of May’s requirements for me to keep going on patrol.”

“Well you can probably just email your teachers and have them check on it. It shouldn’t be too hard for them to sort out.”

“Hopefully. I guess even if the assignments are lost, Math is the only real problem. Most of the History and Spanish stuff was online, so they’re still in my computer if I need to resubmit. Math though…”

“Yeah, those are done on paper. Hopefully you have them put away somewhere!”

“Dude, do you know how many backpacks I’ve lost? There’s no way I’ll still have any of those assignments. I’d have to re-do them all.”

“That would _suck_.”

“Yep. Okay, I’m gonna email them right now and see what they say.”

“Good luck, man.”

 

 

“Hey, is your phone off or something?”

Peter answered Ned without glancing up from what he was doing. “Yeah, just for now. Gotta get this done.”

“Aren’t you going to eat lunch?”

This time Peter did look up as Ned took a seat next to him in the lunch room, setting his tray beside Peter’s books.

“Nah, I want to get a head start on this.” Peter leaned back to give Ned a look at the massive Math packet he was working on.

“Wow. I’m guessing Mrs. H didn’t want to just take your word for it that you’d done your assignments.”

“No, she believes me. This is a-” Peter brought his fingers up to make quotes “-‘lesson in responsibility’ for me.”

“Oh man, that sucks so much. You have to do that whole packet?”

Peter nodded, grabbing his pencil again. “I have a week.”

Of course, Peter was doing really well in Math and the packet wasn’t anything difficult, but it was just tedious. Having to do all these extra problems in addition to all his regular homework would probably mean that he’d have to shorten his Spider-Man time for the next several days.

Which was why he’d decided to use his lunch too. The quicker he got this done, the quicker he could go back to normal patrols.

Peter was so immersed in the current problem that he didn’t even notice the extra glances or the muttering of his name until Ned nudged him.

“Hey Peter? What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Peter looked around the room for something unusual, but everything looked the same.

Except that there were at least a couple people at every single table looking his way. And more than a few people were talking about him - or at least it seemed that way by the way they were acting.

Peter looked down at himself, searching for a stain or a stay piece of toilet paper, or anything else that would warrant this level of attention.

“Tony Stark’s Secret Son Revealed.” Michelle read aloud from her phone and then turned it to show Peter and Ned the picture accompanying the article. It was Peter’s school photo from the previous year.

Peter’s stomach dropped so hard he was distantly glad that he hadn’t eaten lunch. Before he could do or say anything, the bell rang.

“Peter, what are you gonna do?” Ned kept his voice low so the other kids who were now packing up, but still seeming to be very much aware of Peter, wouldn’t overhear.

“It’s uh… it’s Spanish class now, right? Just… don’t say anything to anybody. I’m gonna go to the office.”

Peter had no idea what he was supposed to do. Somehow someone had found out - they had to have because anyone could guess that Mr. Stark had fathered a child, but no one would’ve guessed it was him. But he hadn’t seen the article himself so he had no idea where it’d come from, or how far it’d already spread.

Maybe, if it was just one magazine… they could deny it?

 

 

Peter thought about calling May on the way to the office, and suddenly remembered that his phone was off. Turning it back on, he noticed he’d missed calls from both May and his dad. But while he was still trying to decide who to call back first, the phone rang in his hand - it was Mr. Stark.

“Hey.”

“Pete! I had Friday alert me as soon as you turned your phone back on. You’re not in class, are you?”

“No, I was on my way to the office.” 

“Perfect. May’s about two minutes out. Forget the office - I’ll get them up to speed. Just head outside and get in the car with May.”

“So uh… do we know what happened?”

His dad sighed. “I’m working on it, kid. I promise I’ll have some answers for you by the time you and your aunt get here.”

 

 

In the car, May made him hand over his phone because she didn’t want him stressing over whatever that was being said online.

“Come on, what if Ned texts me?”

“Ned can wait. We’ll be up at Tony’s soon enough, and then we can get this all figured out.”

Peter sat back and sighed, watching the traffic go by. 

“Did anyone show up at the apartment?” The last thing Peter wanted was their lives being completely disrupted by random reporters sitting outside their building looking for a story. Unfortunately, since apparently at least one news outlet had his school picture, that meant they likely had his name too. He couldn’t imagine it’d be that tough to figure out where they lived from there.

“Not while I was packing, but Tony said they might show up there, so I wanted to be gone before then.”

Peter went back to staring out the window. More than anything else right now, he just wanted to know how the information had leaked. This wasn’t a wild guess - somebody had found something. And depending on what they’d found, whether or not they had proof, and how believable the story was… his choice of whether or not to go public as Tony Stark’s son may just have been decided for him.

He turned when he felt his aunt nudge him in the arm.

“It’s gonna be okay, Peter. Tony can fix this.”

Peter wasn’t so sure about that, but he nodded anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out how his secret got out, and has a decision to make.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, kids are jerks.

“Applied Mechanics and Technology. They’re the ones who sent the story to the paper. They’re a small tech firm located in Queens. It’s a relatively young company - only goes back about eight years - and so far they haven’t done anything groundbreaking.”

Peter stared at the photo on the display Mr. Stark was standing next to. He didn’t immediately recognize it - it was nondescript, perfectly blending in with so many of the buildings he passed each night.

“A tech company. So it’s personal. Whoever did this, did it to hurt you,” May spoke without any blame in her voice.

“That was my first thought too, but actually, I don’t think we were even the intended target.”

“Huh?” Peter looked at both May and his dad in confusion.

Mr. Stark waved his hand and another photo appeared. “Roger Miller is their Chief of Development. He’s been working on several projects that he keeps behind some pretty robust security. One of his leads up and quit just about a year ago - Leopold Thompson.”

“That’s Mr. Thompson - Flash’s dad.” Peter didn’t know him or anything, but he’d seen Flash being picked up by Mr. Thompson enough times to recognize him.

“Right. Now, I haven’t been able to connect all the dots just yet, but I do know that whatever Flash’s dad was working on, it was very high priority. And my guess is… they’re not quite done with him yet.”

Another picture came up on the display, this one of Lindsey.

“What the hell…?”

“Do you recognize her?”

“Yeah… she’s a new student. She just transferred in.”

“Well, I’m obviously not law enforcement, so I haven’t been able to interview young Lindsey, but here’s what I DO know: she happens to be an intern at AM&T. She was put on the waiting list for Midtown High right after Mr. Thompson quit. Once she got in, she somehow managed to get into almost every single one of Flash’s classes, as well as the decathlon team.”

“Oh my god… yeah, they’re together all the time.” Peter’s mind was spinning. Was Lindsey some kind of corporate spy? Had she just been trying to get into Flash’s good graces all along so she could… what? Find out something about his dad?

“What does any of this have to do with Peter? Why would this girl suddenly decide to go after _him_?” May wanted to know.

Suddenly Peter had a sinking feeling. If Lindsey, for whatever reason, was trying to win Flash over… the easiest way would’ve been to mess with Peter - that was Flash’s favorite pass time.

“Oh no…” Peter’s mind raced, thinking back to the times when he’d had a feeling of danger at school. The very first time it’d happened had been right after Spanish class when he’d corrected Flash’s mistake. Now that he thought about it, he could remember seeing Flash and Lindsey talking outside the classroom. Maybe that’s when she’d decided to target him to please Flash.

May put a hand on his arm. “Peter, what is it?”

Instead of answering, Peter looked at his dad. “What was it? The proof they had - was it my updated birth certificate from the school?”

Mr. Stark nodded. “Yeah, kid. Somebody used one of the school’s computer labs to access the school system. It shouldn’t have been possible for a student without the right passwords, but there are ways around that. Someone interning at a tech firm could definitely have gotten their hands on something as simple as a plug-in thumb drive to hack through the school security and access the records.”

“Again, why would she have went after Peter’s records? What was the goal?”

“To erase my scores to lower my grades. I think finding the birth certificate was just an accident.”

Suddenly both adults focused on him.

“What?! Someone erased… Peter when did this happen? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Peter winced. “Just yesterday. I got the message about my grades after school and I thought it was a glitch or something. I emailed my teachers to-” Peter broke off, mind racing again. “Yesterday. After school… that must’ve been when she accessed my records. That’s what I was feeling. I was right outside the computer lab.”

“What you were feeling?”

“What are you talking about, Pete?”

“I- uh… it doesn’t matter.” There was no way Peter was going to confess that he’d been feeling danger at school and hadn’t told an adult. 

“So Lindsey gave a copy of my birth certificate to AM&T. And they decided to sell it to the press?”

Peter looked up to find Mr. Stark regarding him intently. He swallowed. He had no doubt that his dad would be coming back to his comment later. 

Finally, he spoke. “Yeah, they reached out to a few of the bigger outlets first, probably hoping to get a bigger check, but no one was interested in a copy of a birth certificate that nobody could prove hadn’t been doctored. So they went to the Bugle, who, of course, had no qualms about sending it to print.”

May perked up. “So we could deny it then. You could issue a statement saying it wasn’t true and that it was photoshopped or something and we’d be fine.”

Mr. Stark sighed and sat down. “Yes and no. I could deny it, that’s absolutely an option. But there’s no keeping this story quiet now; a few other news outlets have already picked it up, and it’s all over social media. This isn’t going to suddenly die down - not for a while, even with a strong denial.”

“So are you saying we don’t deny it? What? Do you think Peter’s ready to be outed to the world as your son?”

Peter cringed as the tension in the room seemed to rise. 

“No, I’m just saying we need to consider all of our options before we start talking to anyone.”

“I don’t see how there are any other options!”

Finally, it was just too much. Peter stood up and made his way to the door, grabbing his phone from where it’d been left on a back table. “I’ll be in my room.”

The room fell silent and stayed that way even as he made his way down the corridor towards his room. 

Once he was safely inside, Peter sagged against the door. He knew that Flash liked to give him a hard time, but he never would’ve suspected that he’d be a part of something like this. Actually, Peter still wasn’t even sure if Flash had even done anything, or if he’d been one of the victims, manipulated by Lindsey the whole time.

School was already out, so Peter turned on his phone and laid down on his bed to check his messages. There were 37 from Ned asking how Peter was doing and assuring him that he hadn’t told anyone anything even though everyone had been asking him questions the rest of the day. 

He also had a message from Michelle just saying “Flash is an asshole” with no context at all. 

His curiosity was more than satisfied, though, once he got on social media and saw that Flash had posted about how pathetic it was that Peter had staged a fake story for a few minutes of fame and how no one with half a brain would ever believe he was the son of Tony Stark.

Then Flash had posted a photoshopped birth certificate saying that he was the son of Thor. 

The worst part, though, was the rest of the internet. The story had only been out a handful of hours, and there was already so much talk about him. Since the mother’s name had been blacked out on the leaked birth certificate, there were several articles speculating about who his mother might be. One even had a timeline of Mr. Stark’s life, matching it up with Peter’s age in order to determine which women were in his life at the right time. One article just went ahead and suggested that Mary Parker had had an affair with Stark and that’s why the whole thing had been hidden so long. 

There was another article talking about what school Peter went to, and speculating if he was as much a genius as his father - that one had even managed to dig up some other school photos of him and included quotes from unidentified classmates who’d said he was “pretty smart, but kind of a loser.”

Peter turned his phone off. He kind of wanted to throw up. A minute later, a knock came at the door and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to anyone about anything. Not right now.

Finally, the door cracked open and he heard his dad’s voice.

“Pete? Can I come in?”

Peter sighed. “Yeah.” He automatically bent his legs to give his dad room to sit on the end of the bed.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

“Not your fault.”

“Well... it kinda is. We didn’t have to update your birth certificate. We didn’t have to make it so official. Keeping it under the table wouldn’t have changed anything between us, you know that, right?”

“No, I _wanted_ to have you on the birth certificate. Your job is dangerous - it had to be official. Otherwise I couldn’t-” Peter couldn’t continue past the lump in his throat. 

Mr. Stark gestured for Peter to sit up. “Come here, kid.”

Hugging his dad, Peter closed his eyes and wished the whole world would just go away and leave them alone. He didn’t want all the attention; he just wanted to be a family. Why was that such a hard thing for him and not for anybody else?

His dad ran a hand over the back of his head just like his aunt sometimes did. Just like he vaguely remembered his parents doing back when he was little, and Peter’s breath caught in a sob. He pulled back to wipe his face and took a deep, but shaky breath - he didn’t want to start crying right now. “I’m okay.”

“I know. And as impossible as it seems right now, this is gonna get better, I can promise you that.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Right so... what’s the plan?”

“That’s up to you. Listen before you say anything, though, okay?”

Peter nodded.

“When you’re ready, you, me, and your aunt May are going go into my office, and we’re going to go over our options. Once that’s done, you’re going to take all the time you need to think it over, and then you’re going to decide where we go from here. But not until you hear all the options and really get a chance to think it over, okay?”

“But… I thought you guys were just going to hash it out yourselves. I think May’s probably already made up her mind.”

“Actually, it was May who suggested that you have the final say; she just wants to make sure you’ve thought it through.”

His dad squeezed his shoulder. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but May and I both just want you to be safe and happy. You decide what’ll make you happy, and let us worry about keeping you safe, okay?”

“Isn’t this something we have to move on quickly? I mean... aren’t we in a bit of a time crunch here? We can’t just leave everybody hanging.”

“Actually, we can, and we will. Until we’re ready.”

 

 

Really, it boiled down to three options: admit it, deny it, or say nothing.

They all decided that the last option was off the table immediately. Saying nothing about it would only cause people to keep speculating forever, and there’d probably always be someone watching him, waiting for some kind of proof one way or the other.

So that left either admitting the truth or denying it.

If they denied it, Mr. Stark said that there were several ways they could do it. He could just issue a statement and be done with it, he could actually go into the school’s computer system and change the birth certificate back to the way it’d been before, he could even sue the Bugle for defamation and threaten to sue anyone else who released the story.

Or they could just admit it. Mr. Stark could make a statement, call a press conference, do an interview - just about anything. He could simply say that it was true, or he could give them more story and ask them to stop bothering Peter.

“Which option gets our lives back to normal the quickest?” May wanted to know.

“Honestly, I don’t know if ‘normal’ is a real possibility any longer. If I deny it strongly enough, and people believe me, then they’ll still want to know what made the Bugle publish the story. They’ll want to know where it came from. Some will probably speculate that Peter leaked the story himself for attention. Or, someone smart enough might be able to uncover that it came from AM&T and then they’ll be trying to make connections back to me. Maybe AM&T made it up to get to me somehow, maybe they plan on trying to compete with Stark Industries - which is laughable, but it will sell papers, and there’s a whole lot of guessing they can do that’s covered under free press - I wouldn’t be able to sue them every time they mentioned me or Peter in a story.”

“But if you admit it, we’d get even more attention, right?”

“Probably. But if we come clean, there’s also a chance that at least the major news outlets will respect a request for privacy. Especially if I agree to sit down for an interview. However, that’s not a guarantee. And, as we all know, being a known associate of Tony Stark isn’t necessarily all it’s cracked up to be. It could make Peter a target.”

“I can take care of myself, though.”

“Sure, if one of your local thugs decides to try something, but I think most of them would probably be too afraid of Iron Man to mess with his son. It’s the criminals I deal with - the ones who aren’t afraid of me - those guys wouldn’t have a problem going after someone close to me. And yes, they might not be prepared for you to have powers, but if they’re ballsy enough to come after Iron Man, you can bet they’ll come prepared to fight hard.”

“And,” May broke in, “you have to consider this: if someone were to attack you because you’re Tony Stark’s son you wouldn’t even be able to show your powers without giving away your other identity.”

Peter laid his head down on the table in front of him. It seemed that no matter what he did now, everything was ruined.

 

 

Once they’d eaten dinner, Peter went back to his room to think. May and Mr. Stark had said he could take all the time he needed, but he knew the truth: there was only so long they could put off answering one way or another. Delaying it would only make things worse.

He tried to imagine what life would be like going forward if he had Mr. Stark deny that any of this was true. There’d probably be a press conference, and his dad would probably get all snarky and make fun of the Bugle, and then he’d tell them that it wasn’t true, Peter wasn’t his son, he was only an intern. 

He’d said he wouldn’t be mean about it. He wouldn’t give any of the kids at school an extra reason to make fun of him by laughing at the idea of Peter being his son, but he’d have to act like he had no clue where the idea had come from.

Honestly, Peter didn’t think it’d hurt too bad, hearing his dad’s denial. The worst part would probably be the kids at school. Even if he asked Mr. Stark to mention that AM&T had been the ones to sell the story, they’d all assume that Peter had had something to do with it.

They were already assuming it. 

Peter logged into his laptop, unable to help himself. 

Flash’s post about being Thor’s son had gotten a ton of likes already. There were a lot of people commenting about how almost anyone else would be more believable as Tony Stark’s son. One person even commented that they were wondering if Tony Stark was going to sue Peter for trying to create an association between them. Someone else joked that since Peter’s aunt didn’t have any money, maybe they should start a GoFundMe for Peter’s legal defense - which someone else said would be a waste of money because there was no defense for trying to fake being a Stark.

Peter was just about to do a search for the current news stories when his phone rang. He put the phone on speaker and entered his name into the search bar at the top of the browser.

“Hey, Ned.”

“Peter! Oh man, this is nuts! How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. How’s it been for you? Are people still bugging you?” 

Peter frowned. The browser didn’t seem to be responding.

“Yeah, my phone was buzzing so much during dinner that my mom made me turn it off. I finally had to turn off my notifications. Oh, and by the way, you should probably just stay off social media for a while. People are being stupid.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

A message suddenly popped up on his screen that said, “Internet unavailable.”

“Well everybody’s going to feel really stupid when the truth comes out. Wait, IS the truth gonna come out? Or is Mr. Stark gonna have his computer erase all these news sites from existence or something?”

“They’re leaving it up to me, and I haven’t decided yet. Hang on a second, Ned.” Peter raised his voice. “Hey, Friday?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Is the internet down or something?”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Stark has just instructed me to keep you from accessing any more news about yourself. I can open the gaming port for you, if you’d like.”

“Ugh. No thanks, Friday.” Peter glanced down at his phone, just remembering that Ned was on the line. “Hey Ned, I gotta go. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Later, man!”

Peter closed his laptop and sighed. It was still early; he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night staring at the wall thinking in circles.

“Friday, where’s Mr. Stark right now?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made! Some are good, and some are pretty bad.

Peter found Mr. Stark in the kitchen on his knees rifling through one of the lower cabinets.

“Hey, uh…what are you doing?”

“Currently? Looking for a bundt pan. Friday, are you sure it’s in here? Never mind, found it!”

Mr. Stark stood up, holding a round pan with a hole in the center. “What’s up, kid? Sorry, not sorry about the internet, by the way. You really should stay away from the news right now; nothing but a bad case of ignorance going around.”

“No, I get it. I was just going to tell you that I’ve made a decision.” He couldn’t imagine either choice being easy, but he was tired of the attacks and tired of people thinking he was just trying to get attention. If he had to be under a microscope, he’d rather it be because he was Tony Stark’s son than because everyone thought he was some loser pretending to be.

“A little soon, isn’t it? We told you to take time to think it over.”

“I _did_ think it over.”

“What, in the last half hour? Your aunt and I were kind of hoping you’d give it a little more thought than that.”

Peter settled into one of the chairs at the kitchen island, watching his dad put a bowl and what looked like cake ingredients onto the counter. “Come on, it’s been more than half an hour. And I’ve been thinking about this since the news broke at lunchtime.”

“I think you should sleep on it.”

“But you don’t even know what I decided!”

“Exactly. So I can say that without you thinking I’m unhappy with your choice. What you decide doesn’t matter nearly as much as making absolutely sure that it’s a decision you can live with. Permanently, because there’s no going back after this.”

“Yeah, I know. I get it. I’m not going to change my mind, though.”

“Great, then you can tell me in the morning.”

Peter sighed. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Making a bundt cake. Wanna help?”

 

Peter woke up the next morning, another headline running through his mind: “Tony Stark: Stress Baker.” Who would’ve thought that his dad would bake in times of distress? Well that, and work in his shop, but apparently last night he’d wanted to stay close in case he or May had needed to talk about anything. 

Except they really hadn’t talked about anything. It’d been kind of cool. Even with the upcoming decision hanging over their heads, they’d mostly talked about cake. They made a cinnamon swirl bundt cake, and a chocolate marble cake. 

May had wandered in once the first cake was done - she said she’d followed the smell of cake - and the three of them had ended up in the home theater, eating cake and watching movies until after midnight.

But it was morning now, and that meant that he could tell them his decision and start putting together a plan to move forward.

 

He found them in the dining room, sipping coffee and-

“Hey, how come the internet works for you guys?”

May looked up from her Starkpad. “Because we’re not teenagers.”

Before Peter could even begin the first line of his argument about why he shouldn’t be treated like a normal teenager, Friday interrupted him.

“Mr. Stark, Happy has arrived. Should I tell him to come straight to the dining room?”

“Sure, we can do it here.” He looked at Peter. “I assume you’re still set on telling us your decision now?”

“Yeah, absolutely. But why is Happy here?”

“Because whatever we do, he’ll likely be a part of it. I figured he’d want to hit the ground running. One of my lawyers will be over in a while as well. No matter what you’ve decided, somebody’s going to answer for the invasion of privacy.”

Peter slid into one of the seats at the table. “Wow, okay. So should I wait for Happy or…?”

Mr. Stark looked at May who waved her hand impatiently. “Just tell us, Peter.”

Peter took a deep breath, suddenly nervous, but not sure why. “I want to tell everyone the truth.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, holding up his hands. “And before you say that I haven’t thought it through - I have, okay? I know that it’s risky. But it’s risky either way and people will be watching me either way, and I- I don’t want to be a liar. Not about this. Which I know is funny, coming from a guy with a secret identity, but that’s not a lie, it’s a secret. And that’s what this was before, too. But now that it’s out there, if I deny it I’ll be a liar… and I don’t want that. If I’m gonna have a hard time either way, I’d rather have a hard time because I’m telling the truth.”

Peter cracked his eyes open, looking first at his aunt, and then at his dad.

Surprisingly, May jumped up and came over to hug him.

“I’m so proud of you, Peter.”

“Really? I thought you’d be upset… I mean, I was afraid you might want me to have Mr. Stark deny it.”

“I’d be proud of you either way. Yes, putting it out there makes me a little nervous, but I’m one hundred percent behind you.”

May went back to her seat and he looked at his dad.

“Ditto, kid. We’ll put our heads together and figure out how to get this done with minimal fallout.”

Once Happy walked in, they started sketching out a basic plan.

 

On Sunday, May went back to their apartment without Peter to check on the situation with the press. Mr. Stark had issued a quick statement through his lawyers on Saturday, admitting that Peter was his son, but they’d decided that more details would come later in a one-on-one interview. For now, he’d just requested that the press leave Peter alone.

Peter hoped there wouldn’t be an army of reporters outside the apartment because he really didn’t want to miss school over this.

Meanwhile, Peter and his dad were spending Sunday in the gym.

Tentatively, everything seemed to be okay. He still wasn’t allowed on the internet, but Ned had told him that Flash had deleted his previous posts and that people from school had mostly stopped talking about him at all. 

So he should’ve known that something terrible would happen.

Peter had just finished a speed obstacle course - no suit, no webs allowed - when his dad brought up the one thing he’d been dreading.

“So. That thing you mentioned Friday - what, exactly, was that feeling you got at school outside the computer lab? And please, don’t try to pass it off as nothing; I saw how you reacted to the news that it was that classmate of yours. It was like you’d remembered something important.”

“Uh… I didn’t know it was important at the time. I mean, I did, but I didn’t know what the problem was.”

“So what happened? Did you overhear something…?”

“I- uh - it felt like my danger-sense thing? Like, it suddenly kicked in after class and I didn’t know why. It was like a sudden rush of sensory input with no purpose, I guess. It felt dangerous, but I didn’t know why.”

“That sounds overwhelming.”

Peter chuckled, relieved that his dad seemed to be understanding. “Yeah, I almost jumped onto the ceiling the first time it happened. Ned had to guide me to the next class because I was too overwhelmed to think straight.”

Peter scrubbed a towel across his face, drying the last of his sweat. He reached towards the gym ceiling to stretch his shoulders, then suddenly realized that Mr. Stark hadn’t actually responded to him. He glanced over and saw that his back was turned, and he was carefully rearranging the towels on a nearby rack.

He gulped, starting to get a bad feeling. 

“It turned out fine, though. So… everything’s good.”

His dad turned around, towel in hand. 

“So. Just to be clear… your danger-sense activated at school for no discernible reason, it was so strong that you nearly gave away your secret identity by clinging to the ceiling, and then you were overwhelmed to the point where you were barely able to get to your next class. Does that about sum it up?”

“It sounds worse that it was, I think. I mean, the second time it happened it wasn’t as overwhelming.”

“The SECOND time? How many times has this happened at school? And - _why_ \- in the _world_ -didn’t you tell me about it? Or May?”

“It only happened those two times, and I didn’t want to say anything until I knew what was going on.”

“Because you didn’t want us to tell you to stop patrolling.”

Peter sighed, dreading where this was going. “Yeah. I mean… I can’t stop patrolling just because I get a bad feeling at school.”

“A _bad feeling at school_? First, I don’t think sensory overload because you feel an unidentifiable danger somewhere nearby qualifies as a _‘bad feeling’_ and second, you absolutely CAN stop patrolling.”

“No, I can’t.”

“YES YOU CAN.” Mr. Stark threw his hands up and started pacing. “What if your danger-sense had activated somewhere in the middle of the city while you were 80 feet in the air? What if you’d been swinging to the next purse-snatching and somebody had decided to use you as target practice, but instead of dodging it, your danger-sense freaked out and you froze?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“How do you know it doesn’t? You’re out there putting yourself into dangerous situations with no idea what’ll happen next and you expect me just to _ROLL_ with it?”

“Yes! Look, I can’t stop. I can’t. People would get hurt!”

“That’s not on you! You can’t be there to stop every bad thing from happening - you just can’t. And you sure as hell can’t take responsibility for things that other people do. ESPECIALLY not when you can’t even be sure that you can keep yourself safe.”

“But-“

“No, no buts! What if it’d happened while you were in that warehouse with the car thieves? What if your senses had been overwhelmed and you’d gotten shot? Does that even register with you, or are you so blinded by your own need to prove yourself that you’d risk getting hurt or worse - getting _killed_ in a dirty warehouse somewhere in Queens?”

“I’m not-“

His dad interrupted him again. “No, you know what? We’re done here. I don’t think you have anything rational to say right now. Go to to your room, think it over, and tomorrow I’ll make a few calls and see if we can get something figured out.”

Peter stared open-mouthed as his dad tossed the towel he was holding back onto the rack and stalked out of the room. 

Walking back to his bedroom, Peter thought over what his dad had said. He couldn’t believe that Mr. Stark actually thought he was just running around trying to prove something. He’d saved lives. He’d actually saved people and Mr. Stark was acting like it was all a show or something.

Is that what he really thought? Did his dad really think that he was just running around, blindly going into dangerous situations just so he could prove himself?

Peter didn’t even go looking for trouble - not really - and not on purpose. He went looking to help people, and he usually found people who happened to need help because they were in trouble. That wasn’t his fault.

In fact, now that he thought about it, none of this was his fault. He hadn’t asked for any of this. He hadn’t gotten bitten on purpose. But since he had, he couldn’t just walk away when something terrible was happening.

His mind immediately went back to that woman in the laundromat the other night. What if he’d just walked away? What would’ve happened to her if he’d just decided not to risk confronting those guys?

No, his dad was wrong, that’s all there was to it. 

Peter got back to his room and looked around. It was still early, but despite the workout he’d just had, he was filled with restless energy.

His dad just didn’t understand. He didn’t know what it was like to be… different.

He looked at his spider suit laying over on the corner of his desk. It’d been a few days now since he’d gone out on patrol. He’d been in the habit of going out at least every other day since school started so if he stopped now…

Peter closed his eyes. He already was going to be under a microscope with the world knowing he was Tony Stark’s son… and everyone had seen Iron Man and Spider-Man working together before. If Peter, Stark’s son, and Spider-Man suddenly disappeared at the same time?

Someone would put it together. Even if it was only a guess. 

But a guess was all they’d need to create a media frenzy. And then he’d never escape the press… and…

Heart pounding, Peter made a decision. He was going out on patrol tonight.


End file.
